


Better Left Unknown

by Paige242



Category: The Shannara Chronicles (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 10:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12910002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paige242/pseuds/Paige242
Summary: Wil Ohmsford had never met his mother's family.When he was ten years old, he found out why.





	Better Left Unknown

Ten-year-old Wil crouched behind a thorny bush, his eyes fixated on the tiny cottage in the valley below.

He did not usually venture this far from the town, but once he had decided on his mission nothing had been able to stop him from making this trek. He had been waiting weeks for this opportunity. His mother, uncle, and (when he was around) his father were very protective of the young boy, and they probably would have stopped him if they had known of his plan.

Thankfully, however, his opportunity to sneak out undetected had finally come.

His father had been gone for days, probably off on another of his drunken benders. His uncle had gone to the market and, for the first time in ages, his mother had gone along as well to help with the particularly large harvest they had brought in last week.

She had been wary about leaving her son, but he had assured her that he was old enough to be at home for a few hours now and had a lot of school work to catch up on that weekend. With a bit of coaxing from Flick, she had finally relented. His excuse was plausible after all—Wil was an excellent student and, since none of the village children would speak to him, he often spent his time inside reading and working on whatever projects he could. He liked to keep busy, and he felt the constant need to prove himself to his teachers who barely tolerated his presence in their classes. Unlike his classmates, they didn’t call him names to his face—but it was not secret that they hated the elven child. Thanks to his unrelenting diligence, however, they could not deny that he was bright and excelled in all his academic pursuits. That, at least, brought him a bit of satisfaction.

This weekend, however, school work was far from his mind.

He had only pretended to read until his mother had left. Then, he had quickly gotten dressed and made his way through the town and into unexplored fields. He hadn’t been sure where he was going, or if his information was even correct, but Wil knew that he could not rest until he found out.

It all began when he had gone down to the shop a little while ago. As always, he had covered his ears and tried to lay low. He had been quietly collecting the supplies his uncle had sent him for when he overhead snippets of another conversation from another aisle.

“No, I don’t see Merik Celland much these days.” An old man had commented. “I think he’s been avoiding the town ever since his daughter...well, you know.” There was a pause. “Heady, wasn’t it? I don’t see much of her either. I’ve heard a few people say that she occasionally comes into town with her elf-boy. But she must know they’re not welcome here.”

“Is Merick’s place still beyond the patch of woods in the east?” Another man had asked.

“Yes.” Said the first. “As far as I know, his wife and son are still out there as well.”

Wil had been unable to hear the conversation after that, but his heart had begun to pound in his chest as he tried to absorb what the old men had said. They had to be talking about his mother’s family, he reasoned. He did not know of anyone else named Heady. And the ‘elf-boy’ they referenced had to be him. There was no doubt about that.

But if that was true, then he had relatives nearby that, for some reason, he had never even heard of.

Wil had asked his mother about her family a few times, but she had always simply said that they were “gone.” The question seemed to bring up painful memories for her, so Wil never really pressed it. He figured her parents had died young, just like his father’s adoptive parents had.

But, he had realized that day, maybe that was not the case.

Wil had been tempted to tell his mother what he had heard, but a voice in his head had told him to hold off. There must have been a reason why she never spoke of them, and she would probably be upset if he raised the topic. At first, he had tried to push all thoughts of it from his mind. He had gotten by without grandparents just fine for ten years, and if his mother hadn’t invited them into his life then there must have been more to the story.

And yet…

Knowing that he had a family so close by began to eat away at him. At the very least, he wanted to see them. If they didn’t seem dangerous, then maybe he could talk to them. Find out why they had never come around.

And that’s why he was here now. Crouching behind a bush and starring at a small cottage in the distance.

This had to be it, he reasoned. It was the only cottage beyond the east woods. Even from here, he could see a figure moving around inside and he watched as a plume of smoke began to rise from the chimney.

Someone was home.

And now that he had come this far he knew that he could not resist going further.

He had to know. He had to see.

With a deep and shaky breath, the young boy stood up from his hiding spot and began to make his way down the hill. His cap was securely on his head, covering his telltale ears, and he did a quick survey of the area to assess various escape routes if things did not go to plan. There was another patch of woods nearby and he decided that he would run there if the people inside the cottage were upset by his intrusion. Maybe they weren’t his family after all. This was just a hunch based on an overheard conversation.

Or maybe, he thought with a small frown, they were his family and he would still be unwelcomed here. Wil was only ten years old, but he knew what the world was like. And he knew how most people felt about him. Humans didn’t trust elves. And most hated them with a fiery passion. Even though he was only a halfling, the sight of his elven ears made most turn in revulsion. In the eyes of many, he was the enemy. And it was very possible that these people felt the same, family or not.

But, for now, Wil tried to push that terrible thought from his mind.     

Even if they were wary of elves, they couldn’t possibly reject their own grandson simply for being a little bit different? Perhaps they had fought with his mother. They probably hadn’t approved of his father, and maybe Shea had done something stupid during a drunken rage. But they didn’t know him.

They would have to give him a chance.

…right?

Nervously, Wil approached the wooden door of the cottage and took another breath to steady himself. All of his questions would soon be answered and that, at least, was something. Bravely, he knocked on the door.

And waited.

It seemed to take forever, but it was probably only a few moments before footsteps approached the door. He saw the knob turn and it finally opened to reveal a grey-haired woman with a strikingly familiar face.

Wil knew that he had never seen her before, but his heart leapt as he realized that this must be his grandmother. Her eyes. Her cheeks. The way her brow furrowed as she looked down at him. She looked like an older version of his own mother.

“H—Hello.” Wil stuttered, trying to compose himself as he continued to look at the woman in awe. “I’m. Um. I’m looking for the Celland family.” He managed, hoping that he didn’t sound too meek.

Part of him wanted to jump into the woman’s arms and give her a big hug, declaring that he was the grandson she had never met. But Wil knew he should be cautious. He was certain he had found the right place, but he still didn’t know the situation. There must have been a reason that they had never met before.

“Yes, I’m Riyn Celland.” The woman replied, looking him up and down with confusion. “What is your business here?”

There was a pause as Wil frantically tried to figure out how to continue. He should have practiced. He should have planned. But it was too late for that now.

“I, well, I was wondering if you’re related to a woman named Heady.” He bit his lip as he watched the woman’s eyes widen. “Because she’s my mother and—”

Wil didn’t manage to finish his sentence as Riyn dropped the book she had been holding and brought her hand to her mouth with a gasp of surprise.

As he suspected, this was clearly the right place. Though he was unable to make sense of her expression. Was she angry? Happy? Simply stunned? It was difficult to tell, and Wil took a wary step back.

“You’re Wil.” Riyn whispered, as she continued to stare, apparently overcome with shock.

Suddenly frantic, she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him through the open door, shutting it firmly behind him. Heart pounding, Wil took a second to survey the small cottage. It was cluttered, but comfortable, and it appeared that there was currently no one else inside.

He suddenly felt very claustrophobic.

“I…I can go if I’m bothering you.” Wil started again, looking back at the closed door. He still wasn’t sure how the woman felt, and part of him wished that he was back in the safety of his own room. “I just wanted to see you. I wanted to know.”

“Just…no.” The woman said, her voice shaking slightly. “Stay a moment.” She paused. “You look so much like your mother.”

Wil nodded.

He had heard that many times before and he was pleased that his newfound grandmother seemed somewhat interested in him. She wasn’t screaming at him to get out, and she seemed to be somewhat pleased and enthralled. He was enthralled by her too. His family had always been small, and he loved the idea of having more people in his life. He wondered why she had always stayed away.

“She never told me about you.” Wil said suddenly, wanting her to know that he had not stayed away on purpose. “But…you knew about me?”

She had said his name, so she must have known, he reasoned.

Riyn nodded, her face now etched with both sadness and worry. “You shouldn’t stay long.” She noted, taking a glance towards the back window. “My husband swore that we would never reach out to you or Heady. He was furious when she betrayed us by running off with that creature.”

Although the woman did not seem aggressive, Wil could not help but flinch at her words. As much as he sometimes resented his father, it hurt to hear him referred to in such a way. And it was becoming clear that these people were as prejudiced as he had feared. Clearly, his suspicions about their estrangement had been correct.

They hated his father for what he was.

And that meant they would hate him too.

“I’ll go.” Wil said shortly, taking a few steps back towards the door. But his grandmother reached out again, stopping him.

“No, please. We have a moment. And I have always wanted to see you.” She paused, and Wil was certain that he could see redness in her blue eyes. “Merik went to see you the day you were born. But I never got a chance. He wouldn’t let me go.”

She looked down at the wooden floor before looking back into his eyes. Then, her mouth began to open, as if she was recalling a distant thought. Wordlessly, she rushed towards a small wooden cabinet and began to rustle around, searching.

Wil wondered if he should use this opportunity to slip away, but his curiosity got the better of him. She seemed excited about something.

After another moment, the old woman stood up, a small white object in her hand.

“Here.” She said, passing him the item. It was a white teddy bear. It looked like something she had knitted, and it was covered in flecks of dust. Wil wondered how long it had been in the back of that cabinet.

“I made that for you before you were born.” Ryin explained, a faint smile on her face. “I had hoped for the best and I wanted to have a gift. But, well…there was never and opportunity. I kept it, though. And a small part of me always hoped.”

“I…thanks.” Wil said, putting the bear into his pocket. He could feel a slight lump in his throat as he looked at the woman. It was hard not to wish that things had been simpler.

He wished the situation was different.

That the world was different.

There was no good reason for them to be estranged.

“You look so much like Heady.” Ryin began again, examining his face once more. “And you look so human.”

Her hand moved up towards his head as she spoke.

Before he realized what she was doing, the old woman took the edge of his knitted cap and gently pulled it off.

Wil felt his face instantly flush as he stood there. Exposed. He wished that she would pass him back his cap and let him get on his way.

He knew that he would not look human to her anymore.

He looked unmistakably elven.

And he knew that he was a disappointment. 

Ryin gave him a sad smile.

She reached towards him once more, this time brushing her fingers across the tip of his pointed ear.

“Poor child.” She whispered, the pity apparent on her face. “Heady was a foolish girl. No one deserves this fate. If only you had a human father. Everything would be okay.”

Wil took another step back, no longer caring about her pleas to stay. He could feel the tears prickling behind his eyes and he wanted nothing more then the flee this place. He did not want her pity. He did not want to see the sadness that overcame her when she looked down at her freakish grandson.

He should not have come.

Frantic, he reached for the door.

But before he could make contact with the rusty knob, the sound of more footsteps made him seize up with terror.

“Riyn, who are you talking to?”

It was a male voice, and Wil knew that he needed to run.

If what she had said about her husband forbidding her to see him was true (and he suspected that it was), he knew that he wasn’t safe.

The boy tried to keep moving, to snap out of his moment of terror, but before he could the felt a rough hand grab his shoulder and turn him around.

Two men had entered the cottage now. Apparently though the back door. And both of their faces filled with shock and rage as the looked at the boy.

“Who is this?” The older man demanded, looking towards his terrified wife as he shoved Wil into the nearest wall. “How dare you let an elf into this house? Have you gone mad!?”

There was no doubt in his mind that this was his grandfather. Merik. Which meant that the younger man at his side was probably his uncle. Both were tall and somewhat imposing men. Unlike his grandmother, he did not see a hint of kindness in their eyes.

“Len, take this _thing_ outside and make sure he gets off the property.” The man continued, turning to his son. “If he resists, you know what to do.”

Len nodded as he moved towards Wil, a deep scowl on his face.

Although his body was full of panic, being taken off the farm sounded like an easy enough escape. He would make it out of here unscathed, and he would be able to run home once these men let him go. 

Unfortunately, however, it was not to be that easy.

“Wait!” Ryin shouted, stepping in front of her son before he could grab Wil. “This…he’s Heady’s boy.”

Silence fell over the small room and both men instantly stopped their menacing advance.

Len’s mouth fell open in shock, while Merik’s face quickly took on a deep shade of red. The boy could almost feel the rage radiating off the man.

He could feel their eyes boring into him and he watched as their gazes came to rest on his most telling feature.

“Please, Merik. He’s our grandson. He didn’t get to choose who his father is. That was Heady’s choice. Your quarrel is with her.”

Wil looked towards his grandmother as she made her plea. Despite a few of her earlier comments, he could tell that she held some genuine care and concern for him. If he hadn’t been frozen in fear, and blocked by two larger figures, he would have run into her arms for protection. She was not pleased with what he was, but she did not want him harmed.

The same probably could not be said for the others.

Merik turned to face his wife, his fists clenched with overwhelming rage.

“This _thing_ is no grandson of mine.” He spat without a hint of compassion in his tone. “All I see if an arrogant little elf. He and his kind have brought nothing but ruin and hardship to our lives.”

“He’s only a child!”

“OUT!”

Ryin’s protest fell on deaf ears

Before he could even flinch, Wil felt his so-called grandfather grab him by the shit collar and shove him roughly. Len, still nearby, opened the door and together they pushed the boy backwards onto the grass.

Night was beginning to fall now, and Wil’s head spun as he looked up towards the deep blue sky.

“I never want to see you or your kind on my property again, understand?” He heard Merick shout as he looked down over the shaken boy.

Helpless, Wil nodded before frantically scurrying to his feet.

“Get out of my sight, you filthy mongrel!”  

He could see Len standing in the doorway behind his father while Ryin stood inside, her hands clutching her chest and her eyes red.

Wil knew that his eyes were red as well, but he turned before his first tears could fall.

These people did not deserve to see him cry.

Body pulsing with both pain and adrenaline, the boy ran towards the nearest patch of trees, not daring to look back. They may have technically been family, but they had clearly made their choice. Merik and Len despised him for reasons he could not control or change, and Wil hated that he had hoped for something better.

He never should have left the safety of his home. Of his real family.

He never wanted to again.

As Wil arrived at the shelter of the trees, he hopped onto the path he had followed and slowed his pace. It seemed that they had not followed him, thankfully, and he allowed himself a few deep breaths before he continued.

Just as he was beginning to steady himself, however, a shadow emerged, frightening him once more.

His first thought was that it was one of the two men back to give ‘the elf’ a rougher beating and his heart began to pound with terror.

“Wil.”

At the sound of that simple word, a wave of relief washed over him.

“Dad!” He exclaimed, happy that the new arrival was not who he had feared. As difficult as his father could be at times, he was far better than the alternative he had just left behind. He had never been so happy to see him.

Although he wished that he had been able to keep his composure, Wil flung himself into his father’s arms. Shea, who seemed sober and calm, allowed the boy to bury his face in his shirt as he let his tears flow.

“Wil, what happened? What are you doing all the way over here?” He asked, once the younger Ohmsford managed to wipe his eyes.

“I…went. I wanted…”

Shea glanced in the direction of the Celland cottage, his face etched with concern.

“You wanted to meet your mother’s family, didn’t you?”

Unable to deny it, Wil nodded as he wiped another tear and his father gave a deep and troubled sigh.

“I was on my way back to the village when I heard shouting.” The older man explained, still holding his son protectively. “I know who lives over here, and I was concerned. I prayed that it wasn’t you they were shouting at. I never wanted you to know about any of this. About them.”

Wil nodded again, looking down at the dirt path to avoid his father’s gaze. He felt ashamed now and he knew that he should not have come here, especially without discussing it first. As he now knew, his parents had a good reason for keeping him away, and he would have been better off to simply ask.

“Did they hurt you?”

“No. Not really.” Wil replied quietly.

Shea looked skeptical but chose not to press his son further.

“You have to ignore people like that.” Shea began, his voice full of concern.

Wil suspected that She had been at the receiving end of their insults far more times then he had, and he knew exactly what they would have said.

“I know it’s hard, because they’re family and they shouldn’t feel that way. But they’re blinded by prejudice, and there is nothing we can do.” He paused. “It’s their loss.”

The boy let out a small scoff. “I don’t think they see it that way.” He said softly, feeling the prickle of tears once more. Wil paused, wondering if he should continue. He didn’t want his father to fly into a rage, but he did not want to keep his pain inside. “They called me a creature. A thing. A filthy mongrel.” He said, his voice shaking. “And the hatred in Merick’s eyes…”  

“Don’t you _dare_ take those words to heart, Wil.” Shea cut in, kneeling down on the soft ground as he reached up to cup his son’s cheek. “You are an amazing boy. Talented, smart, tough, handsome and kind. They don’t deserve to know you. But I could not be prouder to call you my son.”

Overwhelmed, Wil threw himself in his father’s arms once more. As much as it hurt, and as much as these memories would always pain him, he tried to accept the older man’s words. It was hard, being who he was in a place like this. Merick and Len were not to the first to treat him this way, and they would not be the last.

But he knew he had done nothing to deserve this hatred. His father was right—those men did not deserve a second thought.

Reaching down, Wil placed his hand in his pocket and brushed his fingers against the tiny gift he had received from Ryin. Not all of her words had been kind, but he had seen more hope in her eyes. She had felt tenderness for the boy she pitied. If it hadn’t been for her husband and son, then maybe there would have been a chance…

But it was not to be. Wil knew that.

He hoped that, one day, somehow, the prejudice and intolerance would end.

Until then, he knew his fate.

At least he had the memory of one gentle smile from someone who would have loved him if she could. And at least his father had finally been there when he was in need.  

 “Thanks, dad.” He whispered, holding Shea tight. “I promise that I’ll try to be strong.”


End file.
